


Garden of the gods

by errantknightess



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Action/Adventure, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Treasure Hunting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-11 20:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15980099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantknightess/pseuds/errantknightess
Summary: It's more than he had hoped for when he first came to Shanghai, and much more than all his research could ever prepare him for. With a plucky white-haired adventurer as his companion and a mysterious map as their guide, Lavi embarks on a journey to a place of legends. There's no telling what awaits them at the end of this path - and to make matters worse, they're not the only ones following it.





	Garden of the gods

**Author's Note:**

> Late as heck, but here's my fic for [DGM Big Bang 2018!](https://dgraymanbigbang.tumblr.com/) Real life got in the way, so my lovely artist partner and I are still working to complete the work, but I hope you'll still enjoy this bit for now~

The game had been on for well over two hours, and it took Lavi nearly as long to notice that the white-haired kid was cheating.

Granted, he only caught that subtle flick of his wrist once or twice, and only thanks to his vantage point at the bar. From his tall stool, he had a good view all across the room, dim and misty with cigar smoke as it was. That’s what he came here for. Sunday nights were always busy, a perfect opportunity to observe and listen, to gather as much as he could from the jumble of matters and languages buzzing around him. Lavi sipped his _mijiu_ , half-heartedly eavesdropping on a merchant droning to his companion about a tea shipment he couldn’t send off on time. He let his eye wander idly over the crowded floor, but no matter how many times he looked around, in the end his gaze drifted back and back to the corner table where the white-haired kid sat with his profile turned to him.

And it was no wonder his eye was drawn there so much. The International Settlement was always teeming with loud and colourful fellows, but this one stood out even among them. It took a special kind of a daredevil, or a fool, to play tricks at poker with a face like his. That angry red scar across his cheek was easy to pick out from a mile away, just as that hair, lit up like a halo in the dirty yellow light of the wall lamps. It looked peculiar on someone this young; the guy could be his age, Lavi judged, maybe not even that yet – his short, lean frame and soft features made him appear more like a boy than a man.

For that age, though, and for that innocent angel face, he sure was a card shark. The pile of winnings in front of him was already bigger than half of his opponents’ combined, and grew almost with every round. _Full house_. _Straight flush_. _Four of a kind_. The kid put down another winning hand, meeting the curses erupting from the older players with a charming smile. Lavi wondered how long it will take them to catch on. It should be interesting to watch when they finally do; he had witnessed enough bar brawls in the short time he’d spent in Shanghai to know that this crowd didn’t take kindly to cheaters.

Leaning against the sticky countertop, Lavi downed the last swig from his glass, the odd sweetness of the alcohol tingling in his throat. He should head back, he decided, casting one last glance over the bar. Gramps might not be there to breathe down his neck, but his nagging letters were clear that he still expected regular reports on his progress – and so far, Lavi didn’t have much to give him. As long as he was stuck here, his study was at a standstill. It would be best to find a chance as soon as he could and move further inland, away from the bubble of the Western world fizzing at the shore.

The corner table clamoured with outraged cries and the jangle of coins. Chairs scraped against the floor, and for a moment Lavi thought the white-haired kid was already done for, but when he turned that way, it wasn’t him at the centre of the commotion.

“I swear by it!” A short-cropped man in a shabby blue jacket of the German military rose from the table, his eyes pleading as he looked around. “This is worth more than enough! Please, let me bet again!”

“Forget it, Suman!” One of the players thumped his fist on the table, making the tokens and glasses clink again. “That’s the rules. You want to play, you bring in real money. I want no moldy paper scraps here, ‘less it’s bills!”

“That’s right!” Another man cried. “How do we even know what it says here, huh? It’s all in this bullshit local chicken scratch!”

That got Lavi’s attention. He slid off his stool and moved closer, joining the small circle already forming around the table. Suman started reasoning again, frantic and fervent, but his breaking voice drowned in the protests from the crowd. Here and there, a few other patrons craned their necks from their seats, intrigued by the noise. Blessing his height, Lavi peeked over someone’s shoulder and looked at the sheet spread out on the messy tabletop before him. The paper was frayed and cracked, but he could still easily make out the thick brushstrokes of faded ink: a couple of jagged mountain peaks towering over a winding road along a river. It was either a detailed artistic rendition of a landscape or a very inaccurate map – he wasn’t sure. There was also some writing running down the side, dense columns of old-time Chinese calligraphy. Lavi tilted his head, trying to decipher it from the distance. A few familiar signs caught his eye, and he peered harder, but just then someone leaned his hand on the table, blocking the view. Annoyed, Lavi pushed forward with his elbow, desperate to see. He read it right, he _knew_ he did. He’d seen these characters so many times in his materials! Could it really be—

“Complete bollocks!” a man behind him bellowed. “Magic trees, you hear that, folks? Poor chap has lost his mind! This is what you bring to the table in an honest game? A fairytale, eh?”

“It’s not just a tale!” Suman called. “And it’s not just a tree. Look, I got this from an old man up in Peking. I assure you it’s genuine. It’s worth more than everything we’ve got on this table, and I need this win, so if you could just—”

“You should have stuck to chess, not go into gambling,” someone taunted. “If it’s so real, why don’t you take it and go look for this _legendary treasure_ yourself?”

“I meant to!” There was something raw in Suman’s voice, and the rustle of whispers waned for a moment. More heads turned their way. The sudden lull rang eerie, as if holding the time still, and ebbed away slowly as the man went on. “Do you think I got this map just to throw it away in a game of cards? I wanted to find it – I was going to. It was my only hope. But it’s of no use to me anymore. I’m ruined, and I must head back to Europe shortly. Please, all I want is to win back some money and go back home… to see my sweet little girl… before it’s too late…”

Lavi only rolled his eye at that heartfelt speech. This place was full of people like that, crossing the seas to look for luck and fortune. The whispers rose again all around, scraps of gossip drifting by him like a sudden breeze. _Poor Suman, gone mad from grief, grasping at straws, chasing myths for his sick daughter, what a shame_. Some people started to raise their voices, demanding the game to move on already. The faces in the crowd ranged from pity to annoyance, and as Lavi looked round the circle of gapers, just like before his eye came to rest on the white-haired kid. His poker face was gone, replaced with something almost like sympathy, but Lavi couldn’t miss the way he kept eyeing the map with poorly concealed interest.

“All right, friends, that’s enough.” A dark man with a shock of curly hair waved his hands in a placating gesture between Suman and the rest of the players. His calm voice, softened with a touch of Portuguese accent, hushed them all like a charm. “If our _amigo_ says this paper is worth something, I see no reason not to let him play with us. It’s rude to doubt the word of a gentleman, and we’re all gentlemen here, isn’t that right?”

The players exchanged sceptical glances. Some of them shook their heads, tossed their cards on the table and left, shoving their meager winnings into their pockets. The crowd around them thinned a little. People shuffled back to their seats, chatting and laughing: the show was over.

Lavi stepped closer, now intrigued even more than before. The air at the table was tense, the remaining players all restless to resume the game. He could almost feel the sparks shooting between the white-haired kid and the Portuguese. They both watched each other closely, eyes sharp over the edges of the cards fanned out in their hands. The map lay spread out between them, magnetic and tempting, and Lavi had never regretted his lack of gambling skills this much. If he was right, if this paper really was what it seemed to be – then he just might have found exactly what he was looking for.

The last round of betting was coming to an end. Lavi bit his lip, studying the players’ faces as they folded their cards one by one. Only three remained still in the game: Suman, the uncannily calm Portuguese, and the white-haired kid, frowning over his hand with predatory concentration. Their guarded expressions betrayed nothing but the strain of their nerves. It bled over to Lavi, too, and he set his jaw hard as the men measured one another with long, wary glances before finally revealing their cards.

The straight flush from the white-haired kid was anything but unexpected – but Lavi couldn’t say the same of the warm relief that curled in his stomach at the sight. Why was he even rooting for him?

“I suppose that’s it, then.” The kid smiled brightly over his winning hand and nodded courteously to the others. “It was a pleasure playing with you.”

“Likewise. Well done, boy.” The Portuguese watched with frigid eyes as the kid rolled up the paper and slipped it into his sleeve. Suman just sat there, staring with empty eyes at the stained tabletop before him.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it.” The kid picked up his money and pushed the last stack of coins towards him, earning a puzzled glance. “It’s not much, but you could use it more than me now. Just don’t play anymore, all right? Good luck.” He gave the stunned Suman a pat on the shoulder, stood up from the table and headed for the exit, a cheerful spring in his step. Before he disappeared out the door, Lavi was already halfway across the room, following the same path through the crowd and never taking his eye off him.

There was no way he could let a chance like that slip from his hands.

The warm night air outside offered little relief after the humid atmosphere of the bar. It was still cooler than during the day, though, and the streets were filled with people, strolling leisurely and crowding in front of stalls and merchant carts lining the paved road. Lavi weaved his way through them, ducking under the low awnings and lanterns hanging from eaves of the buildings. The familiar white head still bobbed in the sea of pedestrians a few steps ahead of him. He picked up the pace, moving after it as fast as he could. The kid must have noticed, because suddenly he took a sharp turn and disappeared into a side alley.

Lavi cursed, breaking into a run as soon as he lost sight of him. He rounded the corner, nearly crashing into some crates and barrels, and immediately spotted the scrawny silhouette up ahead. There was but a couple of leaps between them, but before he got the chance to catch up, another dark figure split off from the shadows at the far end, blocking the way.

Even in the dim light filtering out through the half-shuttered windows, Lavi recognized that face almost immediately: the Portuguese from the bar. He stuck closer to the wall, crouching behind the stack of crates, but neither the man nor the kid had noticed him, locked in a staredown in the middle of the empty alley. The Portuguese leaned in and said something quietly; barely a murmur in the silence, his voice had none of the softness that had calmed down the poker players earlier on. The kid crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his head, shooting back a sharp reply. Lavi couldn’t quite hear what they were talking about, but the man laughed and took another step forward. The kid still didn’t back down. From his spot, Lavi saw his shoulders tense up as he bore into the Portuguese with a steady glare.

The impasse didn’t last for much longer. As soon as the man opened his mouth again, the kid lunged on, hurtling into his side to shove him out of the way. He almost slipped through, but the man was quicker. The kid didn’t even have the time to look back as the Portuguese grabbed a handful of his shirt and slammed him against the wall, pinning him in place. Lavi cringed when the white head banged against the bricks hard enough to rebound. The kid thrashed around, the toes of his shoes barely grazing the ground. One of his kicks landed on the man’s shin, but it could have just as well phased right through it for all it helped.

“Now, what do we have here?” The man yanked at the kid’s sleeve, ripping it open along the seam. Playing cards rained down on the cobblestones, kings and aces of all suits, and then some. If there had been a shadow of doubt that he’d been cheating, it was gone now, but the Portuguese paid no attention to the damning evidence, trodding on the worn-out paper as he leaned closer over the kid.

“Nice trick,” he hissed. “Where is it?”

“Up my arse,” the kid spit out. Immediately, he was pushed harder into the wall and let out a choked cry as the man’s knuckles dug into his throat.

Lavi gritted his teeth, watching the kid squirm and struggle. He knew he should stay out of it – these two spelled trouble, and he had enough of that on his own. But the kid had the map, and without that map, he wouldn’t find the way out of his trouble any soon.

He had come here to stand back and observe – but he couldn’t look at this anymore.

Cursing again that evening, Lavi stepped out of his hiding place and headed straight at them. The kid saw him first, his eyes flying wide open in bewilderment; that made the Portuguese turn around as well, but his grip never loosened: the element of surprise had gone down the drain.

“Let him go,” Lavi said, coldly staring the man down. Could he take him in a fight? How strong was he? Pretty fast, that’s for sure, he’d seen him move to catch the kid, and they had made their way over here from the bar almost in the same time. He had to be quite agile. If it goes down to fists, it will all depend on who lands the first blow. It didn’t look like his opponent was ready for that. He still had a firm hold on the kid, and a mocking smile that betrayed he still thought he was in charge of the situation.

“It’s rude to interrupt,” the man scolded. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of something here?”

“I said let go of him.” This time, Lavi didn’t bother keeping the anger out of his voice. He took his stance, clenched fists shooting up, ready to throw a punch – when a crushing force clutched his elbow, nearly pulling it out of the socket.

“Ah, there you are, Skinn,” the Portuguese deadpanned, his golden eyes still fixed dead ahead on Lavi. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry.” A deep voice rumbled behind him, too close for comfort. Lavi looked over his shoulder; he only managed to catch a glimpse of the man, large and muscled, so broad that his shoulders nearly touched the walls on both sides of the narrow alley. In the next blink, the giant seized him by the hair and twisted his arm further back, pushing down on his neck and forcing him to lean over. Lavi howled with pain, the skin on his scalp burning so hard his eye watered.

“Trying to go two on one, were we? Do you _ever_ play fair?” The Portuguese clicked his tongue at the kid, his smile growing wider. “Now that we’ve evened out the chances, let me ask you again: the map. What did you do with it? Don’t make me search you, boy.”

“As if I’d tell you.” The kid’s voice dripped with hate.

The man sighed, the frown on his face warped grotesquely in the orange light from the nearby window.

“You leave me no choice. Pity.”

With tight throat, Lavi watched as he slowly pulled one hand away and reached to his hip. The kid struggled viciously against the one-handed grip, but froze again just a moment later when the slim barrel of a revolver tilted his chin up, pushing into the soft flesh under the jaw.

“I really don’t like to do this,” the Portuguese said. “It gets so messy, and you’re not half bad, boy. I’d love to play with you again someday. So, will you give it to me yourself… or should I just take it?”

No reply.

“I see.” The man smirked. “Playing hard, are we? But don’t strain yourself, you won’t bluff me. I know for a fact that your heart is quite soft, boy. Now then, how shall we touch it?”

The push of the revolver eased. The kid wheezed with relief, but the next moment, the man levelled the gun at Lavi and the world stopped.

Lavi’s blood turned to ice, his body bursting with a freezing, paralyzing pain. His eye teared up again, and when he blinked it away, he saw tears and panic in the kid’s eyes as well. The barrel of the revolver stared back at him, too, black and empty. Familiar.

“How about now?” The man’s voice was almost cheerful. “Want to risk the life of an innocent bystander for this? Is your mulishness really worth this much?”

The kid sent Lavi one last desperate glance before casting his eyes down to the ground, defeated.

“No,” he said quietly. “No, it isn’t. You win.”

“Smart.” The Portuguese turned the gun away, twirling it playfully in his hand. “Now, then, why don’t you—”

Lavi didn’t waste time. As soon as he was off the target, he knew there wouldn’t be another chance like this. The man holding him was big, yes – but that meant _slow_ , and distracted with the show his companion was putting on, his reaction time was down even more. It was now or never.

A well-aimed stomp on Skinn’s foot threw him off balance, and once he chased it with an elbow to the gut, it was easy to shake him off. Lavi quickly slipped out of the giant’s reach and clenched his fingers on the kid’s arm, ripping him out of the slackened grip of the Portuguese.

“Run!” he yelled, and saved the rest of his breath for just that.

The kid darted after him, jostling into his back in the narrow space. He was fast, but with his long legs Lavi still had to pull him along to keep up. The packed dirt thudded under his boots, his ears pounding with every footfall. The end of the alley loomed ahead, a golden gate in the closing darkness.

Something boomed behind them, louder than his footsteps and his pulse. A gunshot – and another one – and another. The kid screamed and stumbled, his hand twisting in Lavi’s grip. Lavi held him up, dragging him on with the momentum. Two more bullets whizzed past them, brick chips flying off the wall ahead. They kept running, quickly, blindly, heavy footsteps reverberating all along the alley. Too fast too count, but Lavi couldn’t risk turning around. If those guys took up the chase, their best chance was to lose them.

They shot out of the alley, mingling with the crowd on the main street. Lavi still kept a firm grip on the kid’s wrist as he pushed his way through, dodging people and rickshaws and nearly tripping up over the shallow gutters. His heart hammered in his chest, his throat, his head, drowning out the buzz all around.

“Over there!” The kid’s voice barely broke through to him. Still trailing behind, he pushed Lavi towards another side alley – a gap between two buildings more than a real walkway. Lavi dove into it without second thought. Rough brick scraped the skin off his elbows as he pushed his way further, hunched low to make himself smaller in the damp shadow.

Once he was sure they were tucked safely out of sight, Lavi finally turned to spare a quick glance back. Craning his neck, he peeked over the kid’s shoulder, straining to see through the narrow light of the gap. The street they had left behind was still bustling with life, but nothing seemed to break the steady stream of people flowing past their little nook. No shouts. No more gunshots. The two men chasing them were nowhere to be seen.

Lavi heaved a long sigh of relief, air burning in his throat as he let it out. His chest still felt tight, throbbing with exertion and adrenaline. Beside him, his companion was struggling to find his breath as well. From the corner of his eye, Lavi watched him lean against the wall, eyelids squeezed shut. The sleeve of his white shirt was soaked red, the torn fabric clinging tight to his arm.

“This doesn’t look good,” Lavi muttered, not daring to raise his voice just yet. The kid didn’t react, just stood there limply with clenched teeth. “May I?”

Now he looked up with a flinch, shying away from Lavi’s outstretched hand. His eyes shot wide open, boring into him with a guarded, searching look. Lavi met it firmly, his hand still hovering over the kid’s trembling shoulder.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised.

“No need. I’ll do it myself,” the kid protested, but his face twisted in a painful grimace as soon as he moved to raise his arm. It was plain to see that would be easier said than done.

“Come on now.” Shaking his head, Lavi put his hand on his back and gently eased him to the ground. The kid obliged slowly, slipping down with his back to the wall. The gap was just wide enough for him to sit down with his legs tucked to his chest. He curled up on himself, resting his chin on his knees, letting his bloodied arm hang loose by his side.

Lavi kneeled beside him, eye still fixed gingerly on his pale profile. His throat clenched as he carefully peeled the sleeve away. So much red, everywhere, creeping down the bicep and all the way past the elbow, dark and mottled and crusted—

Lavi frowned, slowly realizing what he was seeing. Not all of it was blood. Some of the red smudged under his fingers, but most of the stain stayed untouched – a permanent discoloration that gave the skin a ghastly semblance of an open wound.

The real wound didn’t look too bad, once he noticed it against the marks; barely a graze. Lavi had enough experience with those to know just how painful they could be, but as long as they keep it clean, that should be the worst of it. He leaned in to take a better look, lightly pressing around the gash with his fingers. The kid let out a sharp hiss and pulled his arm away, turning his head to see for himself.

“Easy.” Lavi steadied him, quickly taking a hold of him again. “Don’t move it around so much. Here.” He yanked a handkerchief out of his pocket and wrapped it tight around the wound – not a hard feat on that skinny arm. The light cotton bloomed with crimson almost instantly, though thankfully the pressure seemed to staunch it a bit.

“This should do for now.” Lavi gave the kid a little pat on the shoulder, making him look up again. “I suggest you wash and change it as soon as you can. It can get nasty really fast in this hellish heat.”

“Right. Thank you.” The kid nodded, his head lolling back as he leaned against the wall. “I think I’m going to stay here a little longer, though.” He shot a worried glance towards the end of the alley, eyes searching nervously through the crowd passing them by.

“Then I’ll stay with you.” Lavi settled down next to him, legs braced against the opposite wall as far as the cramped space allowed. Lumpy bricks pinched into his spine, but he’d take that over the risk any time. The black eye of the revolver still glared at him whenever he closed his eyelid. “Can’t be too careful with the likes of those. Something tells me they hold their grudges long, and that fellow didn’t seem awfully happy with your cheating.”

His joking tone rang fake for miles, but the kid still answered it with a pale smile.

“He was cheating too. He just got pissed that I cheated better.”

“Diamond cut diamond, eh?” Lavi let out a laugh, a little more real this time. “I’d wager he didn’t expect it to be this hard.” He jostled him in the side with his elbow and nearly banged it on the bricks as the kid suddenly leaned away.

“That’s what he gets for treating me like a child,” he said sweetly, and the glint in his eyes sent a shiver down Lavi’s spine. How could he ever fall for that harmless look? This kid was anything but. “And that was just the first mistake he had made… Though I admit I did underestimate him a bit myself,” he sighed with a sour twist to his lips, eyes trailing back to his injured arm.

He was much sharper than he looked – that much was clear. Lavi paused, picking his words carefully to breach the subject he yearned for. He couldn’t afford to ruin this.

“He really cared about that map,” he said at last, trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “You think it’s a real deal?”

The kid snorted.

“He was ready to _kill_ for it, so I’ll take my chances.”

“I've seen people kill for less.” Lavi shrugged, leaning his head back to peer up at the thin ribbon of the dark sky peeking out between the walls. “You must admit, though, it sounds fantastical. _The fabled peach of immortality, bearing golden fruit all year long in the heart of Tian Shan, ‘mongst the garden of jeweled flowers and temples of purest pearl nested up high on sky-reaching jade cliffs_.” The words slid easily off his tongue, the quote still as clear in his mind as when he first read it all those months ago. It could be a curse sometimes, this memory of his, but at least in his studies it had never let him down.

When he looked down again, the kid was staring at him with a careful, measured look.

“Suman barely mentioned there was a _tree_. How do you know so much?” he asked slowly.

“I can read.” Lavi tapped at his temple with a smirk. “And I’ve read about it a lot. I’m a scholar – well, a scholar in the making. Lavi Bookman.” He offered his hand with a grin and couldn’t miss the nervous twitch of fingers as the kid accepted it.

“Allen Walker.” His handshake was short and warm, and he seemed relieved to withdraw his hand. “So is this why you’re here? To study?”

“That’s right!” Lavi beamed. The kid seemed to drop down his guard, even if just a little – that had to be a good sign. “I came to China to help my grandfather with his research. He’s a university professor, had me reading about ancient history and literature since I was a kid. But frankly I didn’t expect _you_ to know about this thing as well.” He gave Allen a curious once-over, the corner of his lips quirking up in a smirk. “You don’t look like someone who would study the local culture. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, seeing as you’ve already proven tonight that looks can be deceiving.”

“You’re right about that much at least,” Allen replied with a lopsided smile of his own. “I admit I barely know anything about these matters. It was my guardian who had more interest in them… Although of local things, he most appreciated the wine and the women.”

“Was he a scholar as well?” Lavi prodded, mindful of the darker tone that seeped into Allen’s voice all of a sudden. The harsh, bitter laugh that sounded in the alley a moment later was not the reply he expected.

“Please. No respectful university would take on a bum like him.” Allen shook his head, eyes fixed on the dirty bricks in front of them. “He fancied himself an adventurer, but all he really was is a good for nothing vagrant. But he wasn’t stupid – at least not when it comes to money. He would follow ancient treasures all around the world like a fly after the hearse, but when he got a trail, he got it _right_. If he thought there’s something worthwhile there, I’m sure I’ll find it.”

“On your own? You can’t be serious.” Lavi turned to him with an incredulous stare. “It’s all the way across the country.”

“Then I’d better get going.” A small sigh of pain escaped him as Allen pulled himself up, injured arm limp across his stomach – but before he got back on his feet, Lavi put a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place.

“Take me with you”

“Excuse me?” Allen’s tone was equal parts surprised and offended as he whipped his head to look at him.

“Why not?” Lavi pressed, not backing out under his stone gaze. “Come on, I’m curious of that treasure of yours.”

Allen huffed, warm breath hitting Lavi’s face.

“Why would I want to let you anywhere near it? I’m not that stupid to lead you to it so you can steal it right from under my nose.”

“Steal what?” Lavi snorted. “A few crumbling stones, if we’re lucky? Don’t get ahead of yourself. I doubt you’ll find what you are looking for out there.”

“Then what do you want to go there for?”

“Beause we still might find _something_.” Lavi shrugged. “A magical garden sounds far-fetched, but so many historical records can’t be wrong. It had been showing up in texts for centuries. There has to be something of importance in these mountains. Maybe a forgotten settlement? Or an ancient place of worship? Whatever it is, I want to see it. What do you say?” He turned to Allen, his cheeks flushing with excitement at the very thought.

Allen averted his eyes, fingers clenching tight on the fabric of his pants.

“I’m better off alone.”

“Are you, now?” Lavi raised his eyebrow. “And how well do you speak Mandarin? Manchu? Mongolian?” he went on, satisfaction growing in his voice at the blank expression slowly taking over Allen’s face. “You’ll be lost as soon as you take one step out of Shanghai. I’ve been around, I’ve seen my fair share. I’ll make a good guide. Besides, that charming gentleman who shot you isn’t working alone, either, and something tells me he’s not giving up just yet. Why not better your chances? Two on two sounds fair enough, right?”

“I suppose…” Allen shifted beside him, wincing as his injured arm brushed against Lavi's shoulder. He fell quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on the brick wall as if staring at something far beyond it – but when he looked up again, they gleamed with steel determination. “All right. You can join me. But if you think I’ll be sharing my treasure, think again.”

“By all means,” Lavi laughed. “I don't care much for fairytales. But if there’s any truth to it, it will shake the archaeological societies in all of Europe. I could get rich off that alone. You take your treasure, if there’s any to speak of. I’ll take the glory.”

For the first time that night, the smile that cracked Allen’s lips looked genuine.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for an idealist like this.”

“What can I say? Looks can be deceiving,” Lavi replied with a smile of his own and an open hand. “Do we have a deal, then?”

“It appears so.” Allen shook his hand, warm and firm. If he hesitated still, he hid it well. “Meet me down at harbour tomorrow morning. The sooner we set off, the better.”

“Right.” Lavi nodded, his chest swelling with anticipation. “No time to lose now.”

 

***

The hotel room was thick with silence, sounds sinking in the plush green carpet underfoot. Even in the dim twilight, the elegance of the interior gleamed at every turn of the head. It was one of the best establishments in the city, and it spared no gilded frame or satin sheet to make that known at the first glance.

Tyki hated every inch of it.

As much as he would love to be somewhere else, though – preferably nowhere as stuffy and showy -- he didn’t have a choice. Road’s burning gaze boring into him from across the room was more than enough to pin him in place. He did his best to avoid it for now, taking another drag of his cigarette and watching the blue plume swirl in the thin shaft of light seeping through the crack in the drawn curtains.

“You messed up.” Road spoke up at last, her tone just playful enough to veer into unsettling. She kicked her legs to and fro in her oversized armchair, almost catching Tyki in the shin. “The Earl won’t be pleased when he learns about that.”

“Then don’t tell him”. With a shrug, Tyki scooted out of her reach on the bed, crumpling the sheets underneath. “What he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. No need to trouble him over a minor setback like this, anyway.”

“You call this _minor_?” Road burst out, high-pitched and piercing. “You ruined the whole plan! We _had_ a _plan_ , remember? Find the guy – get the map – leave no trace.” She counted out on her fingers and jabbed them accusingly at Tyki. “We could be on our way right now if you had only kept quiet – but _no_ , you had to go out and make a show. I should have known better than to let you two numbskulls handle this on your own.”

Across the table from her, Skinn crammed himself deeper into his armchair, chewing loudly on some candied fruit and trying to disappear as much as his bulking frame let him. Tyki rolled his eyes and tapped his cigarette into the cut glass ashtray on the nightstand.

“Come on, as if _you_ had ever missed a chance to have a little fun. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t know he’d put the damn thing out there.” He sprawled on the bed with his shoes on, finally meeting Road’s glare head-on.

“You lost it _twice_ the same evening, you fool. You shouldn’t have let that kid get away with it.”

“Don’t worry, he’s not _that_ far away.” Tyki let out another puff of smoke. “I sent the twins to keep an eye on him – and on that meddling redhead too. _They’ll_ be our map. They’ll do all the work for us. We’ll just need to follow them… Straight to the Peach.”

Road lit up at that, humming with approval. Her smile was sharp as a knife, out of place on her young, doll-like face. She almost freaked him out sometimes. Then again, Tyki thought, they were all a pretty freaky bunch. It ran in the family. Not that he cared for his blood ties much – but at least it never got boring, and in the end that’s what counted the most for him. And so far, this business didn’t disappoint him in the slightest. They had barely started, and things were already promising to get so much better from there.

This was going to be fun.


End file.
